Name: Savric, To those who know him he has been known as Savric The Wanderer

Age: 25

Gender: Male

Species: Human

Appearance: Sarvic comes in at six foot and one inch tall. His entire body has been worked to a state to which it could be called battle ready, he is physically toned and muscular but not to the extent to loose speed or reaction time. His head sports long shoulder length black hair which is raggedly cut with no real style, his eyes are mismatched in colour. The left a deep blue, the other is pure white owing to the saber burn that crosses his face from the right of his forehead to his cheek.

His clothing is similar to that which a jedi knight would wear, Long brown flowing robes covering standard issue grey combat armour which covers his torso and legs. All of his equipment seems very war-torn his robes sporting long rips and many holes from blaster, lightsaber and creature alike, the armour seems to have been patched up numerous times with any markings to the former council he served long burnt away.

Creed: Grey Jedi – Sarvic follows all the tenents of the force, both light and dark.Independent – Sarvics attitudes towards business are as easy as say a bounty hunter… some on Nar’shaddar have begun calling him the ‘jedi for hire’. Money is money and credits go a long way to protecting one’s self, the only thing he won’t do Is kill an innocent.

Affiliation: Neutral

Personality: Sarvic is very closed off, living a life of seclusion since he left the life of a jedi knight. He trusts very few fully, and his instincts are to mistrust anyone at first. Getting past this Sarvic is very friendly, While leaving the order Sarvic has no problem with jedi (if they have no problem with him) but will defend the dark side of the force equally without problem and has no problem with sith.

Motivation: To live freely, be this under the rule of the republic OR the sith. Money is a large part of this as Sarvic uses it to both keep himself hidden, and to protect himself with better equipment.

History: ”Slave.. to me” The young boy carried the tray quickly across the room, no more than seven he had unkempt black hair, dark blue eyes and plane black overalls. His masters were the Tavrak Family, one of the large groups associated to Nar’shadda’s criminal underworld. “Bring me back a free glass slave, then you shall be leaving with Master Miin, he needs to perform an errand and will need your assistance.” Master Miin was one of the Tavraks more unsavoury helpers who dealt with the actually inner workings of the ‘Family business’ so that the family themselves never got their hands dirty. Miin was a male Twi’lek, he had skin that was closer to purple than blue and a lot of scars to show his ‘worth’, the young slave however had no concept of the wrongs his family were perpetrating through this agent, and went along without question.

----“How do you get this thing open?!” One of the younger runners was smashing at the Plasteel crate with a metal bar “Don’t do that you fool, you will break the-” Miin looked to his slave companion before he finished the sentence “-Cargo”. The Back room of The Burning Deck smelt strongly of a multitude of different drinks, smoke and some other less than nice things. The small gathering of runners were circled around a few bumped and bashed containers that the lead runner (a runty human boy of around thirteen) was ‘looking over’. “We can’t get it open Master Miin, The codes don’t work and the Plasteel is too tough to get through with our tools. Could you get us a torch or something to cu-“ the young man was broken midsentence by Miin’s strong backhand, sending his frame tumbling to the ground. “You insolent child, you know the content is vulnerable to damage exactly why the containers are made to well. You also said you could handle it!” he kicked the boy and sent him skidding into the crate. “I bet even my slave could do better!”

The small slave however didn’t get the sarcasm, and jumped to action. Not exactly knowing what the concepts of a ‘crate’ or ‘lock’ were, he went on instinct. Picking up the a short flat tool he went up to the crate, Placed the sharper end were he thought looked right and gave it a sharp tap. With a loud crack the lock fractured, collapsing under its own structure. In stunned silence of the room the boy walked back to his master. Taking a few seconds to realise what happened Master Miin shut his mouth and began to construct a sentence “Could you do that again…err” He looked to his name tag “Sarvic..”

----

The Dark blue glow of his training saber in his hands was comforting. The hum as it trailed through the air the only sounds in his masters training area. Those first memories of him using his powers had arrived and passed like the tide, loosing him in them while he practiced his form three combat against the training drone. He had been young when he had discovered his natural talent, what Master Karkor had now taught him the name of… Shatterpoint. A rarer power within the order, its first use had been like a beacon in the night to the knight which had been in The Burning Deck that night… Fate had delt its cards and the force had brought master to padawn. He had been taken that night wisked away to Coruscant, the jedi order… A new life. Master Karkor was a Kel Dor, a practitioner of Soresu and Tràkata style saber combat, Unlike his master however Sarvic favoured use of the force over his saber, and a lot of the time his training in one fell to the way side by the other. He focused intently on the power to move objects, push and pull… some jedi may call it simplistic, but Sarvic always lost himself in the wonder of being able to manipulate even the smallest objects, or lift things many times heavier than his body could even dream of.

----

“That path is forbidden!” The yellow blade carved through the table slicing its metal frame cleanly in two and causing a shower of sparks and molten metal. Master Karkor quickly brought his long blade back up towards his former Padawn’s head. “The force is much more than that!” The saber met hand, Sarvic using his keen force powers to block the blade from burning his hand using sheer will alone. The blade now trapped in his grip he knew he had only moments before his former master would switch to Tràkata, trying to utilise the shock of him turning his saber off to open his target up to the killing swing. Sarvic’s other hand lowered from his injured face, a long burn scarring the skin from forehead to cheek with his eye shut tightly. The push sent his master flying backwards into the wall, He could see the Shatterpoint… if he didn’t leave now this would be his end.

---The Dark sky of Nar’shadda was almost warming to his skin after the years on Coruscant. Returning home to make his own way in the world. He had bargained with the Sith on the world to train him a little in their ways, not that he planned on joining… both of them can be damned. Random jobs would keep him going and he needed to build a new lightsaber, Its design was already swimming in his mind.

Theme: Gothic Storm - Titans Will Rise

Rank: Former Jedi Knight, Renounced his rank.

Class: Grey JediLightsaber: Sarvics main saber uses a priced Durindfire crystal, rare and only usually found on tatooine this crystal comes from the black markets of Nar’shaddar. This gives his blade a very distinctive Silver blade. The Saber itself is custom built featuring an internal “force” switch to prevent non jedi using his saber and a Duel Phase system. This allows him to extend the blade from 3 feet to 9 feet simply by using another interal switch (this is however veriable, its full setting is rarely used).Its shell is made of a combination of Rancor bone, a gold colour alloy(which serves no purpose other than decoration). It main special feature are four grey Metallic strips that run down all sides of the sabers hilt (equally spaced on all sides), these strips are made of Phrik, a Lightsaber resistant material from the mines of Gromas 16, but in the case once again bought from the markets of his new home world, this adaption while expensive has saved his life against jedi and sith many times.

Sarvic also has a spare saber, it utilised his old light blue colour crystal and a standard shell casing, this was his saber from his days as a jedi knight and has not been wielded since his new saber was completed. This saber only features the internal switch.

Combat style: Sarvic specialises in Form III: Soresu type of combat, leaning more towards defensive and counter attack rather than all out combat, giving him time to use his rather unique force powers to come to play. Having a subtle manipulation level with the telekinesis aspect of his powers means that in addition to Form III he likes to mix in elements of Tràkata form, using the ability to remotely turn off his lightsaber for devastating counterattacks. Saying this however, Sarvic is no master. His lightsaber combat (while competent to the level of a jedi knight) is nowhere in league with his practice of the force.

Force powers: Sarvic focused his training on the force, and as such has a larger mastery of these powers than his lightsaber combat.

His main talent was the reason he was brought into the jedi order as he can perceive and make use of Shatterpoints with little effort, a natural talent which with the training the order provided became a powerful part of his arsenal.

To compliment this Sarvic has a high level of competence with the Telekinetic parts of the force, making use of push, pull and move object with little effort. He can also use Wave, Throw and even Repulse.Other than these he has a small amount of experience with “dark powers” and is able to use Force lightning, but this power is very weak in its current state compared to Sith masters, only able to cause burns rather than the huge amounts of damage these dark masters can bring to bear.

Last edited by Timer on Tue Apr 03, 2012 1:59 pm, edited 2 times in total.

CSName: Kikrosk Pokol Grisshet Age: 28Gender: MaleSpecies: TrandoshAppearance: Physical Looks: Kikrosk stands at 2.2 meters tall, a little more then average for his kind, and has a rather bulky if beaten up build, with scratches and scars lining his body. Kikrosk is an albino, his scales unnaturally white and clean, with his sharp eyes blood red. His head is slightly flat and his snout longer then most, his teeth barred and visible from the outside and his eyes slid farther apart then most Trandoshans. His claws are dirty and bloodied, a reminder to friends and foes that he is not helpless without the force. He has several spikes along the top of his head pointing behind him. His eyes are more closed and slit giving him a leering appearance when he looks at people.

Outfit: Kikrosk is dressed in the standard Acolyte attire with modifications to suit his abnormal species. Obviously it has been increased in size for his bulk and muscular frame, the hood has been extended beyond it's original shape to cover his elongated head. His shoes have been made specifically for Dosh feet, with metal claws attatched to them so that it may fit like a glove around his feet. His gloves have also been modified to suit his fingers, removing two of the digits and getting rid of the ends of each finger turning it into a 3 digit fingerless glove. The face plate has been altered, instead elongated and morphed so that it wraps around his whole head like a helmet. Garnished over his metal srmor is a clean black robe, covering up most of his armor.

Creed: Sith Affiliation: EmpirePersonality: Kikrosk likes to call himself a opportunist, others might call him a coward but that is them merely missing the opportunity to strike him down. He is quick to instigate a fight, his bullying and overbearing attitude often sparking rage in not only himself but in other people aswell, and he is rather quick aswell to call a "tactical retreat" when he isn't certain of his victory.

He likes keeping things orderly and coordinated, despising change and chaos. He is loud and arrogant, often saying before thinking, and proclaiming his own immense saber skills to all who can bear. He is a perfectionist, constantly trying to improve himself over others and show his obvious superiority for all to see. Even with his raging tantrums be manages to play it off as a part of the perfection process, because there has to be a variable to the problem in order to get results, and that variable is his firey temper.

Motivation: Kikrosk's motivation as a Sith Warrior is to seek vengeance upon his traitor brethren and ascend to the rank of Sith Lord. Earning the prestige and honor that he has deserved since birth as a Trandoshian.

History: Kikrosk was born the son of a powerful Crimelord Trandoshian named Nirval Likosh Grisshet. Kikrosk was the 14 batch of hatchlings that Nirval had, breeding them to make Gladiators in his underground pit fights. When Kikrosk hatched he hatched at the same time as another egg, his unnamed brother. After a while the two hatchlings fought each other to the death, as is customary for Trandoshians. Kikrosk was small, thin, and bleach white; his brother was larger, dark green, and was already growing a bit of muscle/tooth. As a joke Nirval gambled on there fight with some Bounty Hunter friends, a thousand credits that Kikrosk's brother would kill Kikrosk.

His brother was soon strangled on his own organs.

Disbelief was the only expression on Nirval's face, as Kikrosk devoured his brother and used his brothers own tooth to crack open and kill his brothers and sisters still growing in eggs. The bounty hunters walked away with heavier purses and Nirval was a little more bitter towards his son. As a form of repayment he pitted his son into the pit fights, oftentimes Kikrosk would find himself awaken in the middle of the night only to see that he is in a cage with a random creature. These fights soon adorned his body in cuts, bruises, and scars.

Yet he perservered, killing everything that stood in his way and killing all of his brothers and sisters that were Pit Fighting. Eventually Nirval pulled Kikrosk out of the Pit Fights, he was losing too much money with people gambling on his son. Desperate to make more cash to replace all that he lost he began to hire his son out as a bounty hunter, murdering people for low payment. But it wasn't enough, and at the rate that his son was making him lose money Nirval would go bankrupt.

Finally, an opportunity came for Nirval to rid himself of Kikrosk. While making a business trade with Sith Lord Anatosh over selling some weapons to the Empire; Kikrosk was present albeit in a corner to watch over the meeting. Anatosh sensed something within Kikrosk, and saw that he was Force sensitive. Nirval offered to sell his son to Anatosh for some credits, and just like that Kikrosk was out of Nirval's hair (Erm, horn). He celebrated that day with many expensive drinks and objects until he died of alcohol poisoning on the same day.

Packed into Anatosh' ship Kikrosk was sent away to Correban to be trained in the Sith Academy. It was brutal and intense, enough to break a man's will only to rebuild it stronger and more cruel. Kikrosk became more bloodthirsty and violent, Anatosh putting a little bit of his own rage into Kikrosk. Finally after the initial training Kikrosk was accepted as one of Anatosh's apprentinces. They were assigned to several missions for the Empire, one was the invasion of the Jedi Temple itself. It was a glorious day, one that Kikrosk will treasure forever, and it burned an image into his brain of Imperial Glory and peace via strength.

Afterwards Anatosh and his apprentince's were assigned to crush Republic rebels on a Imperial world. However, in the middle of a skirmish between rebels and Imperials 10 of the 12 Apprentince's under Anatosh's control turned traitor and brought there light sabers down upon there master. Retreating, Kikrosk vowed vengeance upon his fellow apprentinces for killing his new father figure.

Theme: Fire and FURY!Rank: Sith AcolyteClass: Sith WarriorColor of Lightsaber: RedType of lightsaber: Two HandedCombat style: Combination of Djiem So and Ataru, he focuses on powerful fast blows accompanied with crippling the enemy with the force to tip the scales of the battle. He rarely uses Ataru, using it in conjunction with Djem So when on the defensive before he can turn the tables around and return to his aggressive fighting style.

Force Combustion (Specialized): One of his favorite force powers and the most frequently used one. It is his raw pent up hatred unleashed onto the world, burning a mark onto wherever he pleases. Due to his aggresive training as an Acolyte he has learned the ability to cause objects to explode into firey glory out of sheer will. With it he spreads madness as foes watch the landscape around them explode and burn before there very eyes, until the last sight they see is him stalking forward to strike them down.

Force Wound: Sith training is a brutal and uncaring affair, and young pupils are put through much suffering in order to truley understand hatred and the Dark side. Kikrosk grew to learn Force Wound from first hand experience, as his master had often used it as punishment to weak acolytes (Using it on Kikrosk 2 times). He has since adapted it to his aggresive combat style, using the wracking pain from the force when he closed in on his target, the pain lowering his opponets guard so that the killing blow may be struck.

Force Destruction: While Combustion was the representation of Kikrosk's rage, Destruction is a manifestation of his strength and fighting style. It barrels forward, unstoppable, and either destroying what is in it's path or throwing it away. He often uses this ability at the start of the fight, to set the tempo and get the enemy running away in fear. The hunt is always the best part......

Force Kick: Kikrosk was always a fan of rare and obscure force powers, finding them to be harder to counter due to how little his opponent will know of it. Force kick is one of his most obscure moves, and is his most humorous one. Often times he'll use it on a opponent who's been knocked back or stunned, sending them flying backwards and hurdling all over the place. Mostly used out of amusement as a finisher or as a cheap shot he has also used it to shoo away lesser minions who stick around for too long. It can also be held back, allowing for the force energy to build up and surge forward like a dam bursting, the long it takes for it to kick in the more powerful.

Last edited by Villain on Wed Apr 11, 2012 5:49 pm, edited 7 times in total.

For the king, For the king, For the sake of Skyrim. For the Nine, for the hope of High Hrothgar's pass, and for all of Sovngarde; Where the souls sing your song. For the king, For our King, who will guard Hrothgar! Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin, wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!Ahrk fin norok paal graan, fod nust hon zindro zaan, Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!

Name: Valorian La KrossAge: 26Gender: MaleSpecies: CyborgAppearance: Standing at a height of 5'8 he's not considered to be the tallest, his lean body doesn't help make him look that imposing either. Though his skin has paled noticeably he still appears healthy and at peak condition, his green eyes still portrays his mischievous nature and his light brown hair has grown back.

However his face also reflects the nature of his cyberization, triangular modules are attached to the sides of his temples, smooth and metallic they help redirect commands from the brain to the rest of his body. The majority of his replacements and connections run along the back of his neck and down his spine, various small metallic plates cover his spinal cord to protect the various cables and circuits that run along it. These overlapping plates are visible when Val chooses to walk in civies as are the medical scars and blaster burns.

Creed: TrooperRank: Lieutenant (Tech-Specialist)Affiliation: Neutral

Gear modifications/Gear: His armor is a highly customized version of the standard armor used by the Republic Army, forgoing the blue normally used to represent his rank instead painted it orange.The backpack acts both a method of maintaining contact with the Republic and can be used as an alternative power source for his blasters (assuming he's modified the blaster to accommodate the cables). Both the gauntlets have also been heavily modified as well, the left houses a retractable vibro punch-dagger, used only when forced in hand to had combat, the right houses a small holographic projector used to display maps or holo-messages. The helmet like the rest of the armor is heavily modified, rather than the traditional closed visioned helmets Val makes use of a more opened viewed helmet giving him more vision of objects in front of him as well as possible threats from the corner of his eye. The back of the helmet has been altered to allow for extra components to be 'plugged' into him, namely granting him direct interface of what his remote droid can see.

Equipment: ZN-23 Heavy Blaster pistol- A hand made blaster salvaged from various weapons brought to him during his time as a soldier of the Republic. It's slow firing and is prone to overheating if used too frequently but the fire power has saved his life many times.

QD-A7 Blaster Carbine- With a high rate of fire this modified carbine can let loose an impressive stream of blaster fire though at the cost of power, it lacks the 'killing' power of most other blasters.

D73 Blaster rifle: A reliable blaster, based off the commonly used models found within the Republic Army. High rate of fire and fairly powerful it's a deadly tool in the right hands... assuming it doesn't over heat.

Repair Belt: Simple enough; it's a utility belt filled with several tools to weld, open, cut or even splice, as with most technicians Val carries a hydrospanner.

T7-Remote Droid; A curious little remote sphere, spray painted with and orange to match his armor, T7 is a utility droid used to reach areas Val can't. Equipped with multiple tools and can give it's master limited 'sight' through it's sensors it's has proven time and again it's worth.

Personality: Val is an intelligent man known for his morbid sense of humor, often telling his jokes in an overly joyful tone. He holds his own sense of justice and reasons to fight the Empire, not for the Republic itself but for those who've lost their homes and have been driven into slavery. He chooses to fight for them and hopes his efforts will not be in vain.... or misused.

A man of many faults, despite being in the Republic Army he's not known for his discipline and frequently becomes irritated when individuals damage newly repaired equipment needlessly. The man also seems to have the urge to reply with sarcasm when ever possible. Stubborn about leaving a job half done, Val is willing to risk his own life and limb to get the job done, a trait that once almost cost his life.

His hatred for slavers is well known within his squad but thankfully keeps his cool until he's in a more private local. Often venting out his frustration by finding anything broken or out of place. It's one of the few times he won't comment on how it broke only that it is.

Yet for all his flaws, Val retains his sarcastic grin (for better or worse) and remains calm when placed under pressure, his skills as both a fighter and technician also can't be ignored though one should be wary about letting him 'jury-rig' any kind of blaster for a little extra 'umpf'. Open minded and loyal to those who've earned his trust, Val will gladly fight to the bitter end.

Motivation:

History: Alderaan, peaceful and tranquil. That's what Val always thought his life would be like for the rest of his days. Safely tucked away within the core worlds, far from the conflict. That's what was always said to him, no matter how the conflict went the war would never reach the jewel that was Alderaan. His life was rather complex, early on as a child Val was surrounded by the sounds of mechanics hard at work, his parents worked relentlessly and passionately as they inspected and repairs the various items brought before them, from droids to landspeeders and the occasional starship with engine failure. Much of his spare time was spent with his family and learning the tools of the trade.

However much of that precious time has faded in his memory, too damaged and vague, he knows that it occurred but sometimes he specifics escape him. What was important to him though was that he enjoyed his childhood, he found comfort in this, though everything is in a haze Val is content knowing that he gave it his all before his enhancements.It was his eighteenth year when the Sith Empire attacked Alderaan, their fleets unhindered due to the Republic fleet being called to another location which was later revealed to be merely a decoy. Chaos ran rampant as cities were bombed and raided, the sight of Sith forces walking through the streets firing almost gleefully at the populace was something that Val vividly remembered as was his hatred felt towards those who lacked any sense of morality or decency as they targeted any and all in sight.

As he evacuated on one of the remaining vessels to a safer location, his ship came under fire and would've likely been destroyed had it not been for the republic troopers that were assigned to guard them. The damage to the ship made the repairs complicated due to the fact the repairs had to be done in a hostile environment, even as troopers died protecting the ship the droids were shot down as they attempted to repair until Valorian and several others choose to risk their necks. Originally the troopers had refused their aid to make things easier, confident that the droids could repair the ship in time but the Sith snipers made short work. Five technicians went out to make the needed repairs, even as blaster fire danced all around them they worked quickly to get the ship airborne again. Two technicians were shot down as they worked but eventually the ship's engines roared back to life. Val remembers that he was the last of the technicians to get on board, he remembers that he turned back to pull someone onto the ship, away from the ramp least they get crushed as it closed.

The next thing he remembers was waking up in the hospital, according to his parents while aiding that person a stray blaster shot struck his backpack and hit part of his spine. The troopers that survived the firefight dragged them both to safety and kept him alive long enough for them to get him into the right hands.

Alright then, generic master it is. Actually, Fummo, I'm going to add Snaffles in to my guy's history and if you've got any problem with it, you feel free to tell me loud and clear.

Bluh, feels pretty crap but it's complete.

--------

Name: Jango

Age: 20

Gender: Male

Species: Jawa.

Appearance: http://www.swagonline.net/files/images/ ... review.jpgJango chooses not to change much from his cultural clothing. The only variations would be glowing dark blue eyes, like his lightsaber and plain dark grey robes instead. Two lines of pouches cross his chest, one filled with tools, the other lined with materials and potions. The tools could range from screwdrivers and hammers to more specialised tech tools, or magnifying glasses and dusters to other spying and informational-gathering gear. The materials and potions could be copper wire, magnesium, gunpowder, crystals, etc. Items that could be used for flash-bangs or to discover if that water leaking from the pipe is safe or even drugs to get the blood pumping. He is not well-versed in the medical usage though. Apart from this, like all Jawas, he is very efficient in his usage of the materials, such as which ones to keep on him and to always keep them well-stocked. He is quite small, even for a Jawa, only 70 cm high and lean beneath his clothing. He is not a strong creature, prefering to rely on reflexes and speed to keep out of the way of attacks.

His right hand is a cybernetic contraption, devised originally by his family, than by the tech-savy Jedi at the academy, and the final touches made by Jango himself. It's been tricked out with numerous devices, such as tiny tools for delicate work, a small-seperate power source and a small data store. A torch with varying light-spectrums, a blow-torch, increased grip, a tough inner skin to protect the more essential software, about 20 cm of copper wire and 20cm of silicon and other little nick-nacks and the like. He wears a glove over it normally but when in combat, he simply takes off the glove and activates the increased grip so he has better control over the lightsaber. After some tricky meddling with materials, he managed to find a way to get the hilt to attract to his hand through magnetism also, all it means though is that even if his grip goes lax, the saber will remain in his hand, even if unconscious, unless it's actually pulled away by someone obviously. Really handy for getting tools that roll under the desk too.

His voice is actually from a mechanical voice box, which is why he can actually physically speak "Basic" language, unlike other Jawas. Although he remarks that the voice still sounds odd to him and that even when it was set to Jawa vocals, it sounds slightly off and he often had to repeat himself slowly while talking to other Jawas who quickly picked up on the oddity of his voice and had trouble with it, despite Jawaese being a phermone-based language as his moods where also slightly irregular too.

Personality: Normally quite passive and shy, without that savy business sense most Jawas seem to have. His voice too is quite soft, hushed and generally calm, unlike the swift and shrill piercings of his kind. It sounds like he's thinking about what he's saying, instead of just letting his mouth go wild. A little awkward around females as he simply isn't sure entirely used to how to treat them in the galatic society. He generally treats female Jedi with respect though while issuing simple civility to all other females. He himself is unfortunately prone to random outbursts of anger, clashing sharply with his normally demure mentality. It also led to him having major difficulty mastering aspects of the force, such as causing his force sight to often be shaky and erratic and making it very difficult to keep up any "control" force powers such as his force speed. Instead he prefers to use concentrated bursts of them.

He suspects his mood swings go back to anger and resentment hoarded up from when he was young or perhaps from that attack from the sand people. He remembers them beginning from around that time. Apart from that, he enjoys working with machinary, knick-knacks and gadgets all around him. His favourite time with groups is when they're all working together on something, everyone working together to build or repair something, a group with one goal in mind. It reminds him of when Jawas would scavenge over an abandoned ship or when repairing a generator room, all the hustle and bustle and chatter focused towards a single end. It really helped him let loose some steam and ground the anger. He hasn't been able to do much of that recently.

Motivation: He simply wants to get by and be a good jedi really. He's never been overly ambitious or at least very determined to fulfil them. Apart from one little thing, but that's mainly a pipe dream to be honest.

History: When he was young he was a pretty easy kid to deal with, a little quieter and shyer than others his age, the only special thing that happened was when he got basically mauled by a sandman when he was four, having both his hand and throat crushed. After that he was a little more serious than he used to be, his parents worrying slightly about him but he seemed fine once he'd gotten used to the new hand and voice box, if a little more anti-social than he used to be.

Jango and his family eventually left Tatooine a few years before the attack on Coruscant and had travelled there, determined to set up a new life and to see what could be done for Jango's visions. The village shaman had informed them of Jango's connection to the force although they did not entirely understand it's nature, the Shaman just knew he was special. They decided that since they were going to leave Tatooine anyway, that they may as well go see if the fabled Jedi would know what to do and that Coruscant seemed like a fairly nice place to settle down also. Jango quickly got accepted in, just. He mainly got through the academy with sheer tech-savyness and cautiousness to the point of paranoia. He was constanly being reprimanded for both his constant anxiety and anger, which was also cut off just before it bubbled to the surface, causing it to change into a, slightly self-loathing, shame instead. He'd immediately pull into himself, dive into mechanic work and force training on his own, all the while irritation at the other students began to build up and up until it started over again. Things were generally okay, on average, up until Coruscant was sacked anyway and his family died in the destruction. He only discovered this a month after, on Tython. He'd just bee another padawan, panicking and desperately fighting off the invading forces with his fellow students, he and a few of the other tech-nerds managed to get to the workroom and get a few battle-droids going as well as supply their fellows but it was really just a spit into the wind. They were crashing through the academy on a few hover-vechicles, each jedi still standing carrying a jedi who wasn't.

They managed to get out thanks to a heroic save from Master Clipse and Master Fane, whom dispatched a particularily vicious and determined Sith who was chasing them. Jango had always had a little hero worship for Eward which blossomed in the following years, but he had other things to distract at that time. Once he'd gotten to Tython, he didn't do much but worry about his family and when he finally got confirmation of their deaths, he had a little bit of a ...rough patch. He just stayed in his room when he could and did nothing but stare blankly when forced to attend classes or talked to by others. Finally, one day, Master Snaffles decided enough was enough with this young Jawa and walked into Jango's room. An hour later he walked out again, this was the first time him and Jango had talked. The next day Jango joined the Jedi Sentinel program to become an investigator, wearing new dark grey robes instead of his original brown. It took a while but by the time he became a Jedi knight, he was back to his anxious/randomly angry self.

For the king, For the king, For the sake of Skyrim. For the Nine, for the hope of High Hrothgar's pass, and for all of Sovngarde; Where the souls sing your song. For the king, For our King, who will guard Hrothgar! Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin, wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!Ahrk fin norok paal graan, fod nust hon zindro zaan, Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!